


Mechanical Hearts

by in_a_mellow_tone



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Mechanic reader, Slow Burn, Tenth class, Updated every two weeks, Waiting For Update, country boy and city slicker girl, engineer/reader - Freeform, mature for later smut, who tf knows when that'll be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_a_mellow_tone/pseuds/in_a_mellow_tone
Summary: "It's not like you particularly wanted this job, anyway. But in your line of work, debts needed to be paid, nonetheless. Plus, in return for doing this, your criminal record would be wiped clean. Not to mention the fact that you could move to any other country you wanted if you pulled the right strings along the way. You could leave your former life behind. And that sounded just swell."You're the new tenth class, A Mechanic. Your job is to protect the Engineer and help him build some new creations. However, after a while, you just might have to put in some overtime.
Relationships: Engineer (Team Fortress 2)/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 60





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Hylla_Tavorian_Aldan, for being my beta for this chapter!

The sky was clear and free of any clouds and the heat was blazing down on the dry, cracked, sand. Behind you, the scenery changed into one orange storm of flying dust. The open-topped car you were in was being driven by a woman with jet black hair done up neatly in a bun with nary a flyaway. She wore a purple pencil skirt and a white dress shirt. All paired together with a set of cat-eye glasses. When you first met the woman, she’d apologized for being late and introduced herself as "Pauling". Never mind the fact that she was only one minute late and just taking you to meet your employers.

However, on your way to your new workplace, you were much less professional in terms of style. A denim jacket (you would've worn leather but it was too hot), a plain shirt underneath, nice jeans, and a ball cap. It was plain and it painted you for what you were. A city slicker. Complete with a strange patch of oil on your jeans. Something you tried to wash out long ago to no avail, christening them your unofficial pair of work jeans.

Honestly, if Pauling hadn't been the one to answer the phone when you called about a mercenary job, you wouldn't be scared of her. She didn't have the demeanour of a mercenary, much less someone that knows how to use a gun effectively. In your opinion, she looked cute. Probably part of her job to look that way and play innocent, you figured.

Nevermind the fact that there was a body currently in the trunk. Leaving your backpack filled with your more personal belongings shoved to the backseat. The car was small so that seemed to be the only option you had.

"We should be there soon," Pauling reassured you after giving a once-over glance at your rigid shoulders and tensed jaw. The radio had been turned off long ago due to there being nothing but static. It hadn’t been the worst of silences. Just the tiniest bit awkward.

You just looked over at her with a small nod and continued to fidget with the seams of your jeans. You didn't really care when you got to the base. All you wanted was your paycheque and to get out of here.

It's not like you particularly wanted this job, anyway. But in your line of work, debts needed to be paid, nonetheless. Plus, in return for doing this, your criminal record would be wiped clean. Not to mention the fact that you could move to any other country you wanted if you pulled the right strings along the way. You could leave your former life behind. And that sounded just swell.

Before you could get lost in your thinking about the prospect of a new life, as you were liable to do, the car came to a slow stop in front of what looked to be a warehouse. The air was quiet once the engine was turned off. Peace over the barren desert. Not even the wind wanted to break the stifling heat.

Pauling gracefully got out of the car and looked at you expectantly. "You coming?" she asked without a hint of teasing or sarcasm in her voice.

You sighed in acknowledgement and grabbed the canvas backpack from the backseat before opening the door and joining the assistant for a quick walk to the front doors. A crow could be heard cawing somewhere and it reminded you slightly of your shitty apartment in New York.

You had to admit, the bright neon lights and loud neighbours were your comforts for some time. The thought of the absence of being woken up in the middle of the night to drunks and druggies on the street made you a bit sad. It may be strange but that was your white noise. Making it easy to fall asleep after a day of work. But, you didn't think of it for very long before you were remembering why you had taken on this job in the first place.

While you were reminiscing about what never will be again, somehow you had missed the fact that eight men now stood near the door to the warehouse. Hopefully, you didn't miss anything that Pauling was saying.

"—so she'll be your new team member for a bit."

"Wow, a chick that can work with machines. So special. We already have an Engineer, Ms. Pauling," a boy that looked no older than twenty-seven called out.

His accent reminded you of a crime lord from Boston or, his son, at least. A kid but also a bit of an ass. His hair was spiked up and his clothes told you that he had just woken up and rolled out of bed. At two in the afternoon.

"Scout," Pauling sighed, "didn't you hear a thing I said?"

"It's okay," you interrupted, "I can tell him what I do," You saved Pauling from repeating herself as she gave you a small nod in thanks.

"Scout, right?" You looked at the boy and he gave a nod with a sullen face, maybe it was rude to interrupt Pauling. Oh well, you carried on, "I'm a Mechanic. Meaning I'm here to help protect your Engineer and think of some new things to help him defend you. Although, I will admit," you sheepishly scratched at the back of your head, a nervous habit, "I'm much more used to working with cars than anything else."

Scout didn't look like he understood a word of what you said. The rest mumbled in agreement before a short man in overalls walked the small distance to you. His ungloved hand was outstretched so you gave it a shake as he talked.

"I guess that means we're going to be colleagues." His southern drawl made you happy that he didn't remind you of anyone bad in your life. "You can call me Engie or Dell. I'll show you 'round the base in a bit."

"I guess so," you replied before dropping his hand and seeing the others walk up to you.

Scout was the first after the Engineer to come up and give you a handshake. The way that you two battled it out for grip strength told you that he was just as, if not more, confident than you. This would be fun.

Heavy was next and he gave you a surprisingly soft handshake that completely enveloped your smaller hands. “Welcome to the team,” was all he rumbled in a thick Russian accent. It would sure be a fun challenge to take his counterpart down on the field tomorrow.

Soldier came up and introduced himself after the hulking Russian man, “Don’t believe any of his communist lies! I sure hope you’re an American, Private!”

You barely had any time to think about telling him where you were really from before the Pyro came up to give you a rubbery handshake, filling your nose with the smell of butane and kerosene.

Demoman saved you from the overwhelming smell by shooing Pyro out of the way and extending his hand for a shake with surprisingly soft hands. Guess he’d have to take care of them if he was making his own bombs.

Sniper waited patiently for his turn before approaching you, his figure reminding you of a lanky alley cat. His eyes behind the range glasses looked you up and down twice before shaking your outstretched hand rather awkwardly.

Medic practically bounced up to you, shaking your hand eccentrically, “I am so excited about the new projects I get to do because of you. Join me later in the lab, ja?”

You rigidly nodded and moved on to the last man to shake your hand, the Spy.

Spy professionally shook your hand before saying, “Bonne chance.”

You just hope he heard you say, “Merci,” before returning inside the base with everyone else. Well, except Engie. Engie stood behind you expectantly.

"Care for a tour?" Dell asked, not mentioning the look of slight sadness you gave at the fact that Pauling was gone without you even noticing. You liked the woman, just not who she worked for. 

"Lead the way," was your delayed response as you nodded lazily towards the base that everyone was moving into.

Walking around, Engineer showed you the medical office with its swinging doors into the operating room, the kitchen, and the joint dining room with its tile floors and very well used fridge. My god, had someone punched it or tried to put a head through it?

Next was the laundry room and showers. Communal. Great. It’s not like you were shy or bashful but you certainly didn't want to see any of your co-workers like that. You figured you could just look at the wall for your whole shower and if they had a problem with it then too bad.

Lastly was the workshop with a small regular door and frosted glass with worn-out letters that spelled out, “WORKSHOP," and your bedroom at the end of the hall with everyone’s seperate rooms.

The entire tour happened in a comfortable silence, other than Dell explaining what each room is. That’s good. If the man couldn’t be quiet and content with it, you were going to have problems.

When he brought you outside your room, one thing stuck out like a sore thumb. While everyone else had labels on their door, some defaced with markers or covered in scratches, the label on your door was blank, waiting for a name or status to be put there. With any hope, it'd be all yours and in no time you would be moving somewhere else to start your new life.

"The key should be on your bed. Don't lose it. When you're ready, head to the Med Bay and see the Doctor. He needs to calibrate you into respawn. When you're done, see me in my workshop. I want to give you time to organize the tools you brought."

"Thank you," you genuinely replied, happy that he seemed to keep to himself and not pry. "I didn't bring many so I hope you don't mind sharing for a bit."

Engie just smiled and waved you off, "Not at all, Mech," He was already going to nicknames? Here's hoping that one would stick. It wasn't the worst one you've been called, "I'm happy for the company and as long as you keep your space clean you can share my tools any time."

You nodded and headed into your room with a short goodbye.

The room itself smelled like sawdust and fresh paint. A small window by the double-sized bed on the left painted the room in the bright afternoon light. To your right was a stand-up wardrobe and at the end was an on-suite bathroom. At least that means you won't have to share a shower with your new coworkers.

You tossed your canvas brown backpack onto the bed and started unpacking by placing your unmentionables in your wardrobe filled with three copies of your uniform; a pair of red coveralls, steel-toed boots, work gloves, and a plain cotton undershirt that looked like it would fit you perfectly. They did use a professional tailor to measure you, anyway.

The next thing in your bag was a couple of books on basic mechanics in case you ever needed to refer back to them. You decided to bring only one book about standard conversions for cars and fluids. It was a couple of years old but you doubted you’d need it anyway. Those found a home by the foot of your bed.

And lastly was your two weapons. a sawed-off shotgun and a Colt M1911. Or, as you called it, the Don. Pretty much every gang boss you knew of used it and while you weren't one, you always admired how powerful they could be if used right. It'd be dumb to not take advantage of bringing a weapon you've seen mentioned so many times. Not just with crime bosses but by everyday Americans. Soldiers, policemen, and even housewives. At least now you hoped you'd have the upper hand.

You took a moment to appreciate your guns and the new beginning they represented. When you chose your weapons in training you chose them out of familiarity but it feels almost as if they chose you for the cause of new prospects.

Looking around, the room felt still and full of anticipation. Maybe it was waiting for your name on its placard.

With a sigh, you grabbed your keys and walked down to where the Medic would be. Hopefully, your gut was right and this new job wouldn’t take too long. Only time will tell.


	2. Meet the Medic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for you to go into heart replacement surgery! Maybe it won't be that bad?

You left your weapons on the fire blanket on top of your bed. It’s not like you’d need them on their day off. You doubt you'll ever sleep under it but it does help make the bed look more put together. Almost military-like. Which would make sense considering how some of the men here seem to have that kind of past.

Soldier, you think. Medic, maybe. Spy might've been with resistance but you were at a loss for the rest of them. Scout seemed too childlike and Demoman seemed too... drunk. Sniper could've but it would take a while for you to figure that out.

" _All in good time_ ," you thought to yourself having just reached the doors to the medical ward. It seemed like during your musings your feet automatically brought you where you needed to be without much extra thought.

You gave a quick knock on the swinging doors before walking in. Medic was already standing there with his back to you polishing his tools. Tools that you assumed were going to be used on you. At least, you rationed that respawn didn't come with some sort of surgery.

It's not like you were afraid of surgical tools, but in your now past line of work, it was best to be cautious of anyone holding sharp things. Beer bottles and scalpels could be used in the same way. At least you knew that a scalpel would give you a neat and easy cut, easier to sew up in the end.

"Hey, Medic," You introduced your presence as you walked into the threshold of his domain. Always best to introduce yourself when entering someone else's territory. You've made that mistake once. 

The thought of that one time accident made the nasty scar on your hip throb at the memory.

Shattered glass, grunts of fighting, yelling somewhere from in the room, and finally blood. A nasty cut that would go to your bone. White hot pain. Screaming and raging. Losing control. It had taken you months in the end to walk without threatening to open up the cut again.

"- So please hop up on the gurney for me," Medic finished his sentence as you were finally turning back into the world. Damn, you'd have to get a better hold on your mind if you wanted to be of any use here.

You dumbly nodded and hopped up on the gurney, looking disinterested in your jacket, jeans, and a simple shirt. Medic just looked at you expectantly before gesturing to your shirt.

You mumbled out a curt apology before stripping off your top half, bra and all. Folding it neatly at the edge of the gurney.

It's not like you haven't been seen by a male doctor before but damn if the room wasn't cold. Goosebumps formed all over your skin as he did his general check with a stethoscope and tongue depressor.

Breathe deep, offer your wrist for your pulse, open up, say "ah". So far, a normal visit. That is until he wheeled the cart of freshly polished scalpels and, dear God, is that a bone saw?

"Now," Medic finally spoke after writing down some things on a general chart, "To do the heart replacement surgery I'm going to have to get to your heart-"

You cut him off, "Heart replacement surgery?" Medic looked a little pissed at how you interrupted him so you explained a little more, "I wasn't told much about this respawn system you guys have," You strongly stated. 

"Well, yes," He pushed his glasses up and sighed, returning to a calmer demeanour, "Your heart as it is cannot withstand what will happen on the battlefield with my Ubercharge. It would simply explode!" He finished that sentence off with a giant grin as if he would like to see it happen personally. _Prick_. Nonetheless, he carried on, "So that needs to be done first. While I'm in your chest cavity I will be taking deep tissue, muscle, and other samples while I measure out your bones and other lengths. It needs to be perfect otherwise you'll end up not so normal when you do go through respawn," He gestured for you to lay down on the cool steel. A small sanitary pillow was placed but it didn't do much in the way of comfort.

"So what you're saying is if I need anything fixed I go through respawn?" Hello to a cure for hangovers.

"Yes, but, I know that look," He gave you a parental-like glare as he motioned once more for you to lay down, "You shouldn't abuse it. Getting used to it hurts and there is a vomit bucket in the room for a reason."

You hummed as the smile left your face, trying to get comfortable and ready for surgery.

He tsked before speaking, "Don't get so sullen, Mechanic," He put the syringe near your armpit, "Now, I am not going to apply a complete anesthesia.Too little out here for such a routine surgery, Ja?"

“Routine?” You tried to sit up only for him to push you by the shoulder a little harshly to lay back down, “Have you replaced all of their hearts?”

“Well of course,” He smiled with jagged teeth, “They all reap the benefits of my experiments.”

Medic grabbed a scalpel and started cutting with no more than a deep breath and a flick of the medigun on the ceiling to indicate that he was starting the procedure. It hurt a bit but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction that you guessed Medic would feel out of it.

That is, once your skin was sickly peeled back, until he got a hammer and broke upen your ribcage.

“Fuck!” You yelled, “You trying to kill me you crazy bastard?”

“Normally i’d enjoy hearing sounds of pain but,” He picked out pieces of your ribs and put them on the surgical tray, “Stay still and quiet or I might have to replace something else.”

His ice-blue glare shut you up and got you to stare at the ceiling, where you saw the surgery even better thanks to the mirror on it. The Doctor probably did surgery on himself.

All you felt was a tugging sensation inside your chest before you blacked out.

~~~~

When you came to it felt like one giant blink had passed. You opened your eyes to find a surprisingly calming wave of red light over your body. The MediGun is clearly doing its job. 

“ _But how did he move it from the ceiling to use it in battle_?” You internally mused.

Your rustling around at this thought must’ve alerted Medic as he was turning around rather quickly in your peripheral vision.

"Ah," Medic rushed over with a little paper cup in his large hands, "Welcome back. You should be healed soon but take deep breaths."

He stood there patiently while you tried to drink your water slowly while still laying down, "What time is it?"

"Dinner won't be in a couple hours if that's what you're asking," He took the now empty cup from you and put it in the small trash can by the door.

"No," You sat up slightly only to be pushed back down a little too harshly by the man. His hand covered the smaller frame of your shoulder quite easily, "I have to see Engie before dinner. Organize my tools."

"I see," he took his hand away and put your clothes on your lap, "Give it a few moments and you can sit up to put on your shirt," He paused a bit before speaking again, retreating to the back to wash some tools, "It's four-thirty. The surgery was only two hours. Record time."

He seemed proud at that last statement but you didn't question it. It's not like you knew much about surgery other than how to do the occasional stitch. And even still, they tended to be sloppy as hell. The proof of that was shown with scars that littered your upper body and legs. It seemed people just loved to aim for your limbs when threatening you with a knife.

You waited a few minutes, taking deep breaths and feeling the cloth of your shirt in your lap to ground yourself. It was hard to not think about home, to not stress about this new job. You needed the money but what kind of job had a heart transplant as a prerequisite? If they made you pay for it, that would be the icing on the cake.

With the way your contract had been handled all hush hush-like and on a need to know basis, it would surprise you if they couldn’t even fund their own twisted science projects.

Once Medic had finished washing up and dried off his hands, he mentioned that you were free to go. So you sat up slowly and put your clothes back on leaving the space on the bloody gurney. How none of it got on your clothing you'll never know. Maybe Medic had put it elsewhere or maybe you were just lucky. Who knows.

You silently left the room. Medic's hawk-like stare on your back. Perhaps he was curious about your past or maybe he just liked watching people as they walked. Here’s hoping he wouldn't ask any questions at dinner. You’d hope it was common courtesy to not talk about pasts.

You headed back into your room and grabbed the socket wrench, socket set, precision screwdrivers in your backpack. Taking your car manual with you, too. For good measure before heading the opposite direction you had just come from; towards the workshop and the sound of what seemed to be a saw cutting through wood.


	3. Meeting the Engineer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your surgery you go ahead to Engineer's workshop. Hopefully he isn't bad at sharing tools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! I really hope you guys will enjoy this one! I know it's been a bit dry lately but the next chapter will go into our first battle! Yay!
> 
> Now, on with this chapter...

Walking down the grey-concrete halls for the second time, you made your way to the workshop. It was only a straight line and a right turn away from your room. At least it wasn’t on the complete other side of the base.

It wasn’t that hard to find the place along the drab halls, truth be told. The cutting of wood and the smell of sawdust was coming from the thick door of the workshop. It wasn’t as comforting as the sounds of a car bay but you could get used to it.

You knocked and waited for the sawing to stop, being careful to not step into an experiment or whatever he was doing. You weren’t really keen on losing an eye or a hand on your first day.

The door opened and the Engineer had bits of sawdust all over his face and overalls. A shocked expression on his face until he saw it was you, softening into something kinder.

“Sorry, Mech, I wouldn't’ve been doing this if I knew you were coming,” He opened the door more and held his arm out to invite you inside, “I never know how long the Doctor can take.”

You quickly replied, “It’s fine,” as you walked inside the wprkshop.

If you had one word to describe it, it would be big. About as big as the workspace in those places that did oil changes for too much money. There was more than enough room to move around and create. Maybe this contract wouldn’t be too bad if this was where you got to do most of your work.

Instead of pits for the cars, the floor was covered in sawdust, the tall walls were filled with room for tools to hang, and in the middle was a long steel table that changed to wood halfway through that divided the room in two. At the end, there were two bay doors slightly cracked open to let a constant air flow in and out of the shop.

“Sorry it’s such a mess,” Engie wiped his hands and took off a glove, “It’s not usually like this.”

“It’s alright,” You turned to face him after being shocked at how well-stocked this place was.

“Join me on the other side of the work table, I’ll show you your space,” he waved his hand to motion for you to follow him around the scrap wood and worktables.

You followed him to the left side of the room. There was a large red tool cart that, upon opening it, was empty with more than enough room for any tools you had.

You took a look over the tool cart and remarked to the man beside you, “I guess whatever tools I brought, you’d have them, anyways.”

Engie smirked and chuckled out, “Yeah, probably.”

You took out the two tools you brought and placed them neatly in the first drawer while striking up a conversation with Engie, “Is this Medic guy always such a dick?”

Dell looked confused and a bit shocked at how blunt you were. You took that as a signal to carry on with your question.

“I mean, I guess I understand how he can’t use anesthesia but he could’ve at least told me what he was doing. Fuck sake, man, he was picking bits of my ribs out of my chest without even so much as a sorry or a second glance,” You took the book out of your bag and set it on the table that stretched all across the room on the walls.

“Now hold on,” Dell held out his hand to calm you down, “He’s a man of science. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to be an ass about it,” You scoffed back.

Dell didn't say anything to this and just stood awkwardly near you so you started up a new conversation for the sake of keeping things civil.

“Thank god you’re shorter,” You remarked, testing how many tools on the wall you could reach, “I was worried you were gonna be six feet and I’d have to make a step stool for my first project.”

He just laughed at that and nodded towards your manual, “A car fluid manual? What d’ya need that for?”

Engineer was inquisitive, you could appreciate that to a certain point, “Well back in the city I worked in a shop.”

“I didn't wanna be rude,” Engie smiled, “But I knew you were a city gal.”

You gestured to all of you, “That obvious?”

“No offence, but I wouldn’t take you for someone that knows the difference between a Foal and a tractor.”

You laughed, “Fair enough.”

You looked towards the floor on his side to see what was going on and to keep the conversation alive, “What’re you making?”

You walked over to the project on the floor with Engie tailing behind you. The sawdust surrounded a wooden frame of the sorts, like he had just started cutting out a clean shape from a rough template.

“A new couch,” he sighed, “Demo broke the last one.”

“Drunken antics?” You asked. Not that it wasn’t obvious, however.

“How could you tell?” He replied dryly.

“I could help out if you need it.” You walked back over to the door to hang up your jacket and pick up a pair of safety goggles.

“Sure, I’d like to see what you know about woodwork, anyways.”

“I might have an idea or two,” You replied before walking back over in your jeans, t-shirt, ballcap, and newly donned safety goggles.

You two spent the rest of the late afternoon making up the frame for the new couch and stuffing old potato bags for cushions. You made the idea to reinforce the frame with some scrap metal you saw lying near the bay doors outside, right next to a nice pile of wood in different types. You guessed with it being a desert, he didn't really need to worry about rain soaking through his scrap material.

You were stapling the last cushion in place in no time. It wasn’t a glamorous couch but it was surprisingly comfy and rather sturdy. I mean, you guys did lift it with a winch and hook just to drop it on the ground unharmed.

Just as you were standing back to appreciate your work you and Engie heard a knocking on the door.

“Come in!” Engineer called, taking off his pair of glasses.

Heavy crouched to fit into the doorframe. “Is Heavy. Dinner is ready. Demo make food.”

You nodded and Heavy left with the door open. The air is still with the pride of a finished job. Your stomach growled at the thought of some food.

“Let's take this out and join the fellas for dinner,” Engie clapped you on the back with a chuckle.

“Sure thing,” You picked up one end and helped maneuver it out to the living room. At least the thing wasn’t too heavy for the trek to the other side of the base

THe couch fit perfectly over a clean spot on the carpet in front of a shotty TV. You just hoped that this one wouldn’t break as easily.

“Alright, let’s get in there,” You commented after placing the couch down. Engie just nodded and you followed him into the dining room. 

You walked into the kitchen/dining room to be hit in the face with the smell of English curry. The spice and savouriness of the flavouring made your stomach grumble. But first, remembering some semblance of manners, you headed to the sink to wash your hands.

Looking at the table there was a few empty spaces. Not sure where to sit, you sat in between Engineer and Sniper. My god, did that man ever take off his range glasses?

“Glad for you two ta show up,” Demo commented as he put down a plate for both of you.

“Maybe if you didn't break the couch we wouldn’t be late,” Engie replied with a smile.

“It smells great, thank you, Demo.” You began eating. The curry was expertly prepared with spices you probably couldn't name on top of the fluffiest white rice you’ve ever seen.

“ ‘f course, lass,” He replied as he dug into his plate. 

Silence filled the room as everyone dug in, forks and knives clinking along the plates. Some drank beer from brown bottles while others, like yourself, had a bottle of water. Well, at least your first dinner wasn’t going to be awkward.

“So...” Scout started, sitting beside Demo and Spy at the head of the table, “What weapons do you use?”

Everyone turned to look at you expectantly.

Ah, nevermind about dinner not being awkward.

“Uh, well, I use a sawed-off shotgun and a Colt 1911 pistol that was pretty popular where I’m from.” You tried your best to not give up too much information, “It’s pretty basic but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right?”

“That’s the same pistol as mine!” Scout shouted out of excitement.

You smiled at the fact that at least one of you had something in common, “Maybe we can see who’s better with it, then?”

“Oh you’re on!” Scout was so excited he looked ready to burst, “I bet you I can clean mine faster.”

“You’re on,” You challenged, pointing your fork at him, “Pick the time and I'll be there.”

Scout was about to respond before Spy rudely interrupted him.

“And where are you from, Mechanic?” Spy slyly asked while picking at his meal.

“Now Spy,” Engie butted in before you could say anything, “You know that’s not the kind of questions we ask here.”

“I’m just saying, Labourer,” Spy looked at you straight in the eyes, guestering with the hand that held an unlit cigarette, “Her kind of pistol is popular in a lot of places. but one place where someone might take up this job to escape something comes to mind. New York.”

Ah damn, the man did know as much as you were warned about.

“You’re from New York?” Scout excitedly said, “That’s pretty cool!”

You sighed and gave in, it’s not like you could hide it now, “Yes, The pistol I use is favoured by some crime bosses there,” You looked back at Spy, “And that’s all I’m saying about that.”

Spy just raised his hands in surrender and went back to eating.

“You are a patriot! You use a military pistol” Soldier boomed, “Act like it!”

“Now Soldier,” Medic at the other end of the table, looking beside him to the military man, “She has her reasons, I’m sure, for not wanting to say anything,” Now it was Medic’s turn to glare at Spy.

Soldier didn't say anything, looking like he was thinking about what Medic had said, giving time for the Pyro to talk. He was sitting across from Engie and beside Scout and Demo.

“Mhhm hrr bhe reophmmhhm hy hmb?” His head was tilted in confusion.

Engie thankfully translated for you, “the firebug is asking if you’ll take his job.”

“No,” You replied kindly, “You can still protect Engie, Pyro,” He sighed out relief, “I’m just here to give you some help in doing it and give you more time to do other things.”

“Your gun,” Heavy asked right after, sitting beside Sniper and Medic, “How effective is it?”

“Well,” You started, eating your curry once again, “The shotgun is better at close range but the pistol is best at medium range. Or even a longer kind of range if I can aim it in time.”

“That’s the beauty of that pistol,” Sniper spoke up next to you, “The shorter trigger and light frame is unbeatable. I doubt they’ll stop making them.”

“Exactly,” you proudly said. Everyone after that made conversation amongst themselves, satisfied with your answers. At least you had something that everyone could respect you on.

The evening slowly died down as more and more members finished their meals, Even Pyro went back to his room after a bit to eat. And you decided after everyone else had gone to do whatever, that you’d go back into the workshop to just take another look around.

As you were looking around at the vast space, Engie walked in with a surprised hello. Not wanting to be rude, you entertained some more conversation with him.

“Didn't expect me?” You asked.

“Thought you’d wanna head back and go to bed,” He shrugged his shoulders and puttered around his side of the place.

“Too early, plus, I'm just amazed at how big this room is. Quite unassuming from the size of the door,” You gestured at the tall walls with tools and the long workbench in the middle.

Engie just chuckled as he sorted a few things on his side mindlessly.

You sat down on a stool and flipped open your manual, satisfied with the comfortable silence that followed.

“Tomorrow,” He piped up after a few minutes, “When you stick with me, I want you to try and see how the team plays together. It might help you with thinking of improvements.”

You nodded and continued to read through your manual, trying to quiz yourself on stuff you had read a hundred-times over.

“Now, go on, Mech. Get some sleep. We fight at eight tomorrow which means you’ll probably wanna wake up at six-thirty or seven.”

“Maybe,” You got up slowly and walked towards the door, “I'll get up at seven-thirty and be as messy as Scout.”

Engie just chuckled as you walked out of the shop. Smiling the whole way on the quick walk back to your room.

After cleaning yourself in the shower you laid under the fire blanket, the night turned out to be quite cold, and set an alarm with the clock on your desk. It seemed nice to you, how one day in and you were pretty comfortable with the Engineer. Hopefully, that would come easier with everyone else.


	4. First day of work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is your first battle! What will happen?

The alarm clock on your desk woke you from your sleep. Rather rudely, you’d like to add. It’s incessant beeping jolting you wide awake in a startled gasp. Shock replaced by annoyance in mere seconds.

You ripped the covers off and slammed your hand on the clock. Effectively shutting it up.

The time on the device read 7:00. Meaning you had one hour to get ready.

You hopped in your shower and did your best to enjoy the warm water on your skin. Safe to say, when you got out you were still half-asleep. But at least you calmed down a bit.

Opening up your wardrobe you picked whatever uniform hanging up you decided to lay your hands on first.

The coveralls easily fit snugly over your form. It was insulated well from flying sparks and slow-moving shrapnel. However, that meant it could get too hot too quickly like any other pair of coveralls. Your best solution to the all-too-common problem was to tie the upper half to your waist. You then moved to strap your pistol to your right thigh, and slung your shotgun over your shoulder. You crouched down and put on your steel-toed work boots before clomping down the concrete halls for some much-needed coffee.

It took no time before you were in the off-white communal kitchen. Somehow, you had been given a cup of coffee in a bright red ceramic mug from seemingly nowhere. The colour was tacky and hurt your eyes but it’s not like your coveralls were any better, really. Everything in this damn base seemed to be red and you didn't know who to blame for it.

“Drink” Heavy grumbled at you dumbly staring into your cup. How you even made it in a somewhat coherent manner, let alone getting in the shower and then overcoming the task of mindlessly getting dressed, was beyond your understanding this early in the morning. Safe to say your mind was used to waking up much later than this.

A yellow gloved hand gently came underneath your cup and tilted the coffee towards your mouth. Forcing your brain to finally kick in and take a sip of the warm, black, liquid. The bitter and faintly almond-like taste danced on your tongue and warmed up your brain.

That is before you realized that someone literally made you drink the burnt coffee. By tilting the cup up with their hand. Like you were a child. You looked up in dumb confusion to see who it was.

Dell was standing in front of you, watching like a mother hen. His eyes looked at you with a gentle concern while he had a soft smile on his lips. His work uniform was all together, save for a hardhat and goggles sitting on the counter.

“Uh,” You attempted to start up your first sentence of the day, “Thanks.”

He just nodded calmly and went to do his own thing for breakfast. Grabbing a pan before turning on the stovetop and fishing some sort of meat from the fridge. The meat sizzled before long. Filling the room with a hearty smell that made your stomach grumble.

You decided, upon seeing food being made, that it’d be best to make something for breakfast. So you grabbed a slice of bread and some butter from the fridge. Popping the bread in the toaster, deciding to make something for lunch. Assuming you got time to eat it, that is.

All you could find in the beat-up, small, fridge was sandwich toppings and a bag of bread. Guess it would be sandwiches for a little while, then. Not the worst thing in the world. And if someone called you out for using their food, then they should’ve labelled it.

You made yourself a childhood classic. Ham and cheese.

Memories of wolfing down sandwiches after playing with your friends in the small town almost made you smile. Those days were certainly simpler. Whether it be from nostalgia or the truth but it seemed like back then nothing was tainted. Not by crime or dirty work. Not that you couldn't remember a time without being in debt to someone, that is.

Still, a small part of your mind wishes to return one day, even if it would be impossible to go back to that small town again.

The bread popped from the toaster, tearing you from your daydreaming rather abruptly. You put some butter on the slice before finishing up your lunch. Chewing on it absentmindedly.

You wrapped up your sandwich in a brown paper bag and started walking over to the locker room. It wasn’t too far off from the kitchen, thankfully. You found the locker without a name and, assuming it was yours, placed it on the top shelf for later.

You sat down on a bench attached to the wall. Deciding to finish your cup of coffee while you waited for everyone to file in.

First came Heavy, carrying a huge machine gun before taking out a shotgun from his locker. Though, if you didn't know anything about guns, you’d say he was carrying a pistol with how small it looked in his giant hands.

Next came Pyro, grabbing a flamethrower and flare gun out of his locker. The black void of the gasmask stared into your soul before giving a thumbs-up. You returned the gesture with gusto and took another sip of your coffee.

Then, it was the Demo. He swayed like he was drunk and the unlabeled brown bottle Demo was carrying didn't do him justice. He got a grenade launcher out of his locker. You could only pray that Demo was somewhat coherent when drunk with that thing.

Next came Engie. He took a wrench and some other tech devices out of his locker. He attached them to his belt and sat down beside you.

“Didn't get much sleep last night?” He chuckled at your still slightly dishevelled expression.

“How could you tell?” You mumbled while taking the last sip of your now cold coffee, “How often do you have to force your teammates to drink their burnt coffee?”

“It happens more often than you think,” He began to fidget with his tools before finally saying, “I guess I should explain what you should be doing out there.”

You watched Spy walk in just behind the Medic. Both of them looked wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Maybe they had been planning beforehand. It seemed likely, they both seemed to be smart men. Medic was a dick, sure, but he was smart.

“Protect you, right?” You looked at the man beside you, his face was covered by his hardhat and goggles. It suited him.

“Well, yes,” He replied, looking towards you, “You also have to help repair my sentries if they get hurt. I trust they tested you on my blueprint design?”

“Rigorously,” you grimaced slightly at the way they insisted you study poorly copied blueprints. It would’ve been better if they weren't full of chicken-scratch writing and blurry details, “It’s not like they gave me perfect copies of them, though.”

Engie just chuckled, his shoulders shaking before letting out, “Yeah, they never do.”

“One Minute!” A cruel, snakelike voice came over the speakers. You had never met the woman but you knew that voice from your phone conversations; The Administrator.

At one point you wondered how much money and influence she had to have. If she could keep track of so many people. But, with how you grew up, you knew it best to not question it. That is if you wanted to stay alive. Yet, you couldn’t help but be a little bit curious.

You and Dell both stood up with a nod to get ready by the wide-open garage doors. He looked over at you, licking his lips before speaking, “Now, Mech, there is going to be someone out there on the other team that looks like you. It’s going to be jarring at first, I won't lie to you. But when you see her, trust me when I say that the best thing to do is shoot first. Get it over with.”

You untied and zipped up your coveralls so only a sliver of the shirt underneath was showing. Images of all the mirrors you’ve punched, all the times you sutured yourself wrong, all the places you’ve hated the look of flashed into your head.

With a smirk, you replied as the PA counted down from ten, “Not a problem.”

He only gave a steady nod before shouting, “GO,” with the rest of the team. You followed close on Engie’s heels. The Don was out of its holster and the shotgun bounced off of your back. The feeling of battle making your mind razor-sharp and ready for anything.

Quickly, Dell rounded a sandstone corner and began building what you had come to recognize as a teleporter. You did your job and swiftly watched his back while he clanged on.

“Let’s go,” You heard from him before running again. Stopping just before you would reach the first checkpoint.

You turned around and watched his back again as both a dispenser and teleporter went up in a calm and calculated manner. The only noise being his wrench slamming against metal.

Maybe it’s because you were being quick but something felt off, it was too quiet. The battle did start, right?

“Hey, Dell,” You called out, looking around corners for the BLU team, “Isn’t it a bit too-” You got cut off as a bullet grazed your shoulder. You held back a shocked groan at the sensation.

“Yeah, how's that feel? Eat it!” A very annoying Boston accent shouted, the sound echoing off of the empty battlefield.

“You were gonna say quiet?” Engie quipped before building a sentry, “Cover me, he’ll make it to me before I finish building this little fella.”

You nodded and peaked the corner again with your pistol. Only to find the BLU Scout at a much closer range than expected. His bat was already out to get you. Before he could even get the chance to hit you, however, you swung your shotgun around. Pulling the trigger with ease. Putting a shot in the enemy Scout’s chest. Stopping him dead in his tracks with nary a sound beside the gunfire.

All was quiet while you waited for something else. That is until you heard slow clapping coming from around the corner. You hid back behind your cover and looked for Dell. He was still building his sentry.

“Nice to meet you!” An all-too-familiar voice rang out. It was you. From the inflection to the slightly nasally tone. It made your nose wrinkle at the sarcasm in the tone. Did you always sound like that?

“Dell,” You got Engie’s attention, whispering loudly, “How much longer on the sentry?”

“Almost done,” Dell looked up at you, matching your volume, “Just keep her distracted.”

You nodded and swallowed thickly, “You want me? Come and get it!” You yelled. The sound hanging in the air for a split second.

Your copy just laughed wildly before you heard her running down the wide space in between buildings. You peeked out behind your corner only to see her feral smile. Good god, did you actually look like that?

You calmed your nerves and stood to your full height. Opening your arms. Taunting her with your open stance in the middle of the sandy space.

“Come on!” You yelled. Your voice only makes her run faster. The smile she wore became maniacal as she came closer. Your BLU counterpart was in pistol range and you didn't like it.

“Now!” Dell shouted and you leaped out of his way with all the strength you could summon. The sentry beeping to life before shooting bullet after bullet. You panted on the ground as you watched the aftermath of Engies' actions.

Your copy was easily torn to shreds. Blood pooling her blue coveralls and white shirt. She had left them tied at her hips rather messily. That was almost too close.

“Don’t look too long,” Engie came up and grabbed your hand. Lifting you up, “We got work to do.”

You walked over to the corpse and put a bullet in her surprisingly untouched head. A final goodbye before you nodded and followed Engie back to the dispenser. Here’s hoping the rest of the day wouldn’t be full of that many close calls.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you like this idea of a Slow Burn! Please Kudos and Comment if you'd like to read more! It's always better when I get feedback, even if it's a keyboard smash!


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